


hot for teacher

by sourcheeks



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Teachers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourcheeks/pseuds/sourcheeks
Summary: Will likes Abigail. She's a good student. He isn't sure how he feels about her dad.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	hot for teacher

Will looked out at the gaggle of freshmen in front of him. Some of them had settled into small groups, friends occupying desks in a cluster and talking to each other. Some sat alone. Will watched the ones who sat alone, what they did. Drawing, texting, reading, doing homework for other classes, daydreaming. 

“Can I have everyone’s attention?” Will asked, closing the door. Slowly, the clamor died down as he set up his roll book on the music stand he had to use because the school was too cheap to get him a real podium. “I am going to call roll now. I’ll say your last name, and I want you to tell me what you like to be called.” He glanced up, giving everyone a serious look. “You will neither mock nor correct any of your classmates, am I understood?”

A few scattered mumbles of agreement. Good enough for him. He made his way down the roll call, then closed his book. 

“My name is Will Graham, you can call me whatever you want, I don’t care, as long as you at least pretend to pay attention in class.” He’d practiced this diatribe a hundred times over the past week, and recited it under his breath the entire drive to work. “Yes, this is my first year teaching, yes, I used to be a homicide detective, no, whatever stories you heard from your classmates or older siblings are almost definitely not true.” 

Someone raised their hand. 

“No, I did not kill anyone.” 

They lowered their hand. 

Will turned to the whiteboard and started to write. “Your first assignment in this class is an essay. I don’t care about body paragraphs and outlines and introductions and conclusions. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be an essay.” A few nervous giggles from the freshman about his swearing. “Write a short story for all I care. But write me something, at least three pages of it.” He underlined the words at the top of the whiteboard and turned around, tapping it with his marker. “What is your design?”

A girl in the front raised her hand. “Um, Mister Graham?”

“Yes, Abigail?” 

“What does that mean?”

Will’s lip twitched up, barely a smile. “What do you want? What do you do? How do you achieve it? There are no wrong answers. I want you to write about something you think is important. Something close to you. If you aren’t comfortable letting me get that close to your heart, write it about something fake. Write it about some _ one _ fake. But write me something.” Will sat at his desk. “You can use the rest of this period to write. Or not. I’m not your father.” 

The classroom immediately descended into chatter. A few people put in headphones. Will saw maybe three people writing. 

Will used his script for all his classes. The kids seemed to like him. Probably because he let them use their phones and didn’t care if they worked in class or not. His first week went… really well, much to his surprise. 

Then a parent caught him drinking during his prep period. 

“Mister Graham?”

Will shoved his flask back into his desk. “Um, hi, hello.” He quickly stood. “I was-”

The man in the doorway held up a hand. “No need, Mister Graham. I’m the parent of one of your students.” 

“Oh, is there an issue?” Will started to look through his roll book just so he didn’t have to look at the man. “Who’s your child?”

“Abigail, she’s in your first period, I believe.” 

“Yes!” Will relaxed a little. “So you’re Mister Lecter.” 

“Doctor Lecter,” Hannibal corrected. 

“Doctor Lecter, sorry.” He nodded. “Well, your daughter is a model student, Doctor. She’s a brilliant author, this story she wrote - it’s one of the best I’ve ever read.” He smiled, hoping he didn’t sound too crazed. He was nervous. God, he was so nervous. 

“She has a creative mind.” Doctor Lecter leaned against one of the student desks, folding his hands in front of himself. “She speaks quite highly of you.”

“Oh. Really?” That was a surprise. 

“Yes, yes.” He nodded. “Says you’re very strange, but people enjoy your class.”

“Well, I suppose I am strange.” He nodded, pushing his hair away from his face. 

“You’re worried I saw you drinking,” Doctor Lecter said curtly. “And that I’m going to tell somebody.”

Will grimaced. “So you did notice.”

“You seem perfectly capable. I will say nothing as long as I am not aware of your habits causing problems.” Doctor Lecter stood to look at the whiteboard. “‘What is your design?’” he read aloud. “A fascinating prompt. What is your design, Mister Graham?”

“My design?” Will laughed, pushing his hands back through his hair. “My design is… harm reduction.”

“Then wouldn’t you be better suited remaining a detective?”

Will shook his head. “No, no. I feel like - how many criminals are just angry kids? How many of them just need to be heard? I am… here to listen.” He smiled shakily. 

“A noble enterprise.” Doctor Lecter smiled back. “I must return to the office now, I’m here to pick up Abigail for an appointment. It was nice to meet you, Mister Graham.” 

Will shook the doctor’s hand, hoping his own hand trembling wasn’t nervous. “It was nice to meet you too, Doctor Lecter.”


End file.
